Page 14 of My Fake Lover

»Get in,« Max said, nodding towards the interior.

»You don’t have to constantly tell me what to do. I’ve made all my decisions on my own for twenty-five years, so drop this rich-CEO-control-freak act, okay?«

He didn’t flinch, and I snorted before taking a seat and him slamming the door shut. The next five days would probably be the longest of my life. Yet for the brief moments when I saw something genuinely human in him, I thought this arrangement would be a breeze.

Inside, it smelled of a new car and expensive leather. Not a single speck of dust was on the dashboard. It was cold and impersonal. Although it was early summer and over twenty-five degrees Celsius outside, I shivered. I wrapped my arms around my body and waited for Max to get in. His scent immediately overpowered all others, and I quickly looked out the window, as he overwhelmed me as always.

»You even drive yourself?«

»Usually, yes. I just hate driving in New York.«

»Too much traffic and too many unforeseen events, huh?«

»And I can work on my way from my office to my home.«

»Of course. Do you do anything other than work?« He pulled away, and the centrifugal force pushed me slightly into the soft cushions. Wow, maybe I could get him to let me behind the wheel for once.

»You mean, besides pestering pretty, sassy food truck owners?«

»You find me pretty?« I asked, amused.

He snorted and steered the car onto the road. No matter how emancipated a woman could be, it was incredibly hot when a man in a perfectly tailored suit sat next to her, gripping the steering wheel of a sports car with strong hands, and navigating it through the streets with effortless confidence. I stared at his hands. Short, well-groomed nails, muscles, and tendons that stretched to his forearms and disappeared under the sleeve of his shirt. Small, unadorned silver cufflinks.

»That’s not up for debate,« he replied, and I looked at his profile. He always seemed so tense. Why?

»Do you have friends, Max?« I asked seriously, and for a brief moment, something dark flickered across his features.

»Friends are an illusion. When it comes down to it, everyone fights for themselves.«

»Do you believe that?«

»Isn’t it true?« He glanced at me briefly before returning his gaze to the road. The landscape outside flew past us without me really paying attention. I had eyes only for Max and the dark aura that surrounded him.

»No. I live with my best friend, and I know I can always rely on her!«

»Does she know everything about you? Without exception?«

I hesitated. »Of course.«

»Why are you lying, Ivy?« This time, I was the one avoiding him and staring out the window. »You see. Your friendship is an illusion. And she has secrets from you, too. It’s okay, as long as you don’t delude yourself that you won’t be alone in an extreme case.«

Just like my family was a castle in the air. I hated that Max was right about this, as it was the most tender spot inside me that I had to offer.

»So... favorite color?« I asked, and Max seemed briefly confused. »So we can properly pretend to your brother about our amazing relationship. We’re meeting them soon, right?« And I was so incredibly excited and needed to distract myself.

»Black.«

»You’re just saying that to annoy me, aren’t you?«

»What’s yours?« he asked without replying to my question.

»Colorful.«

»Can’t you even commit to a favorite color? That’s frustrating.«

I had to grin. Finally, we were back on safe ground. »I like to frustrate you; this muscle twitches here.« I gently brushed his jaw. The stubble of his three-day beard tickled my fingertips, and I had the impression that he briefly held his breath. I jerked my hand back.

»Favorite food?« I asked quickly.

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